


An Oregonian Sunday

by LittleRedRoseontheValley (TheLifeAndLiesOfFerns)



Category: It Lives in the Woods (Visual Novel)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Married Life, Rain, Romance, Sleepiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:17:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26333971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLifeAndLiesOfFerns/pseuds/LittleRedRoseontheValley
Summary: It did have its challenges, but Connor could not feel anything but happiness when evaluating his life, even when dealing with Amy’s little quirks of personality.
Relationships: Connor Green/Main Character (It Lives in the Woods)
Kudos: 13





	An Oregonian Sunday

The rain pattered lightly on the window of Connor’s overstore apartment, and the sunlight barely shone through the windows, even with the drawn curtains. It was nothing short of a dreary, cold January morning in the Pacific Northwest.

He turned on his side, wrapping himself around the colourful sheets, given as a housewarming gift from his eccentric mother-in-law. His blond, too long and messy hair was falling in his face, as it often did when he woke up in the morning.

Looking to his left, he checked the clock on his bedside table. It was just before 10 o’clock. It was much later than his usual waking hours, as he had to sweep the floor of the store and arrange the merchandise for opening, but it was Sunday and neither of them were a particular religious person, so today was a day for sleeping in.

However, as his grumbling stomach tells him, Connor was hungry and he wanted to get up and make some breakfast. That plan was insidiously thwarted by Amy, his once-beloved wife, who was cuddling closely into his side.

Her leg was tossed loosely over his. He tried breaking free of her grasp but was brought back by a gentle tug of his shirt and a _stay_ mumbled into the pillow next to him.

His wife had a slight penchant towards rainy weather. She admired the tempest forming and blaring through their glassy windows overnight in delight. She liked observing nature’s might, or so she says. As a result, she probably went to sleep late the night before and was feeling sluggish.

Facing with the impossibility of getting up, and the lull of her presence next to him, Connor gave up on breakfast so early. An extra ten minutes would not do him any harm, after all. The food on their pantry would not be going anywhere, after all.

Their conjugal bed was warm and so comforting, and a chested hum of contentment reverberated through Connor’s ribs. God, he was one happy man.

Connor did not know how much he could appreciate another human being until he met Amy when he dropped out of college and moved back to Oregon. He developed a crush on her almost instantly, and did not think he would have her this close to him ever.

After the disaster with Redfield, and Noah’s consequential death, six years ago, neither Connor nor Amy were in any need for excitement and adventure. She decided to attend college in Portland commuting from Westchester, while he settled on his job as a hardware store shopkeeper while he worked on his sculptures on the side.

Fast forward four years, he still did not produce the next David, but he liked where his creativity was taking him, and he made some good money selling his pieces in Seattle. Amy graduated in Anthropology, like her father, and dedicated herself to study the relations of tribal and urban legends in the Pacific Northwest.

When his boss retired, Connor offered to buy out the store. He liked working with the materials he used, and the social observation he did from behind the counter was fodder to his mind. The place came with a loft upstairs he could do some work on himself with whatever money he had left, and the yard, albeit small, had space for a garden, which Amy would appreciate, and a shed for his atelier.

The old man was glad to have someone take over, and he really liked Connor, so he sold at a fair price. Shortly after their business was completed, he proposed to his girlfriend with an heirloom ring, which she gladly accepted, and here they were today.

The Greens were still scandalized with his life choices, and they brough it up every family dinner they had at their place, but Stacey was over the moon with it, badgering them to get on making her a niece or nephew soon.

The world may have been falling apart around them in those first months, and his family proved itself to be a challenge, but he appreciated every single minute he got to spend with her. It did have its challenges, and they faced a lot to get where they were, but Connor could not feel anything but happiness when evaluating his life, even, and perhaps especially, when dealing with Amy’s little quirks of personality.

Sunday was, indeed, a day of rest, but ten minutes soon turned into thirty and here he was, still hungry and stuck within his lover’s grasp. Although his stomach was begging for him to eat something, he was not that angry or anxious. Staying next to her in these comfortable sheets somehow evened the situation.

Amy finally found the strength to open her eponymous eyes after being so tired from watching the storm until early hours of the evening. There was little more she liked more than sleeping in rainy mornings, which, living in such a damp place, bred a complacent attitude that just would not do. So, she had to seize the opportunities whenever she could.

When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw were her husband’s lapis lazuli ones already fixated on her. She chuckled and put her palm over his creeping face in embarrassment.

“Connor!” She shrieked. “I haven’t even brushed my hair! Stop looking so intently at me!”

He placed his hand around her wrist and brought it back down. He put his arm around her back and she leaned in to give him a soft hug. Her face in his chest as he stroked her back.

The act of being this close was so intimate. Any type of touch could be intimate. Amy was thankful for these moments, because he made her feel like a person, he made her feel alive and seen, things that were rare through most of her life. Even if it was just a hug, the fact that she knows that he appreciates her existence is better than any drug.

Her hands were cold, so she placed them under his shirt and laughed when he flinched.

“Why are your hands so cold?” He pulled away from her, looking at her straight in the face.

“Better question, why is this house so cold?” She countered, with a challenging corked eyebrow.

He laughed softly at her antics and pushed a few stray hairs out of her face. “Because you like the cold and refuses to turn up the thermostat.”

“I certainly do. How else would I enjoy my late mornings with my beloved, but awfully diligent, husband?”

“Waking up early too.” He responded, smirking. “Speaking of awfully diligent, I should go make some breakfast.”

“Please don’t leave.” She looked up at him with a sad face that was obviously fake to make him stay. Obvious or not, it works because, although he knew it was not real, he felt difficulty in saying no.

“But I’m starving.” He pouted.

“C’mon, honey. Just stay with me another minute and we can make breakfast.” She placed her hands on either side of his face, pulling him in for a lazy kiss. He placed his hands on her waist to bring her impossibly closer.

She touched him and suddenly he was putty in her hands, melting into her touch. She made him feel so alive. Time was relative, it moved slower when they were together. Almost as if it knew they appreciated every little moment they had together.

Once she pulled away from his lips, she looked back up at him and gave him a soft smile. It was so contagious, and Connor felt himself smiling back at her as she scratched the back of his head.

“It’s raining.” She pointed out the noise of the drizzle outside.

Her hands moved farther up his scalp, making him hum once more.

“That it is, my dear wife.” He closed his eyes and sighed as she continued to hold him.

“That means we don’t have to go outside.” She pointed out, smirking.

“If you don’t want to, yeah, I suppose you don’t.”

“We can stay in bed all day.”

He opened his eyes. “This is true, but Amy, I’m terribly hungry.”

She rolled her eyes and removed her hands from his head. He winced at the loss of contact. “Well Green, you better go make us some breakfast and bring it back up here so we can stay in bed all day.”

“Oh, so I have to do all the work now?” This time he placed his hands on either side of her face.

“Yes, I am so very sorry, but you have to.” She sighed. “If you weren’t a little bitch about food, we wouldn’t be in this situation, would we?”

“I suppose we wouldn’t.”

He pecked her lips softly and got up to make them both some breakfast.

“Don’t take too long.” She yelled, leaning back into the pillow.

“I won’t. I know how impatient you are.”

She scoffed into the pillow, and yelled after him. “Hypocrite!”


End file.
